


When Mommy's at the Market

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-20
Updated: 2004-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mommy's away, the boys are at play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Mommy's at the Market

## When Mommy's at the Market

by Jamie H.

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/dreamchaser016>

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* * *
    
    
            Clark took a step forward in the barn, dusky light falling onto his face in slivers through the slats.  He set his dirt-slathered shovel to the side and leaned against a wooden column.  With a sigh, he let his eyes fall closed, and commenced with a deep breathing technique he had learned from Lana.  She was a sudden yoga fanatic.  He had attended one of her Talon classes.
            As his thoughts trailed to other things, school and family; his father was still in the hospital, he found them crawling desperately back to one thing:  Lex.
            Nothing particular about him, it was everything.  His silky voice that could lead a red-blooded Kansas boy to think of one thing, his gray-ish eyes Clark liked to gaze into when the man's attention was elsewhere, the clean-shaven head that Clark longed to knead fingertips into, the tall figure Clark yearned only to feel pressed...no, what was he thinking?  Lex was what they spoke of when they said to reach for the stars; he was purely unattainable.  It was unavoidable; the man was untouchable goods.  The Forbidden Fruit.
            Besides, what would he want some silly farmer John-boy for?  He had the choice of the priciest whores, cherubic boys, and the most beautiful high-society women.  He could get a good fuck 24/7, anywhere he liked.  Clark was a Food Lion-brand Coke kind of boy in a Perrier world; he was a home-rolled joint in a sea of expensive synthetics.
            But he couldn't escape his mind's entrapment in the waves of Lex-lust that overcame him.
            If only he could...they could...
            Clark leaned over and picked up the phone, with the full intent of dialing Lex's cell.  Just to hear the sex-infused velvet sound could satisfy him for the day, or the moment, at the least.  He pushed the numbers in, the pattern engraved so deeply within him, it may as well have been tattooed on his forehead.  As he went to hit the last digit, his body was seized with fear.  He trembled and became chilled with a single breath.
            What was he planning to say?  What if Lex was busy...maybe even with one of his lovers...how could Clark handle that?  And what if Clark did tell the truth?  What would Lex reply?  Would he reply at all, or would he sit silently on the other end, the only sound emanating his heavy breath intake?
            Clark tossed the phone to the floor, savoring the sudden crack of the plastic hitting hardwood floors.  Bastard, that phone, trying to draw him into its dark mind games.  He knew its plans.  First, confession, then, humiliation, causing irreparable damage, and the end of Clark's life, as he knew it.  Friendship cannot recover from such things.  Clark had had enough experience with both Chloe and Lana to know that friendship does not convalesce well when the injury is lodged in the heart.  No cures for that.  And if Clark were rejected, he wouldn't be able to face Lex, let alone resume any sort of relationship.
            Facing rejection was not one of Clark's fortes.  Not that he had experienced it all that much.  But he knew his interior was fragile, though one wouldn't easily take it, when looking at his toned golden chest and tree-trunk arms.  No, Superboy didn't look very delicate.  Appearances are more often than not deceiving.
            Startling him from his reverie of thoughts of sexy hairless men in bathtubs came the shrill ringing of the phone.  He jumped up from his mattress, reluctantly acknowledging his nearly painful hard-on waging war with his stiff jeans.
            "Hello?" he asked hopefully, praying to let the velvet voice through to undulate roughly through him.  "Kent's residence."
            "Honey, I'm at the market," his mother cheerfully informed him.  No, she had a head full of hair and no penis at all.  Well, he thought, maybe Lex would beep in while he went through motions with Martha Kent, "And I wanted to know if you want broccoli or cauliflower tonight.  Both look like they're having good seasons and are on sale.  What do you think?"
            He heaved a sigh and answered, "Whichever you'd like, mom."
            His mother said, "Well, if I wanted to decide, I wouldn't have called.  But I think we'll have cauliflower.  I have some seasoning with me that I think will taste just terrific with it."  Clark heard the market crowd passing in the background static of his mother's cellular, mumbling "hi!"s and "nice weather isn't it"s happily.  Everyday was the same in the vegetable stands.
            Clark told his mother bitingly, "That'll be just spiffy, ma!"
            "Is something wrong, dear?" his mother asked him, her soft voice laced with candy-sweet concern.
            He felt suddenly angry with himself for taking out his teenage angst and repression on her, who was calling simply to inquire about the meal she would be preparing for him.  He apologized, "Sorry.  It was just a long day.  Cauliflower sounds wonderful."
            His mother replied, albeit with tension in her voice, "All right, sweetie, I should be home in a couple of hours.  I have some more shopping and then I'm supposed to go visit Ms. Baker.  She could use some company"
            "Sure," Clark said, "Hey, mom?  Where's dad?  I didn't see him when I got home."  He was hoping that he, too, would be out for a while.  Clark had every intention of finding release without worrying about someone popping into his room to tell him that football was on, or that he needed to head out to the barn, in which case, Clark would cover himself awkwardly and turn the deepest shade of scarlet.  
            "Oh, um," Martha thought, "I think he mentioned going out to play some poker for a while with Pete's father.  I guess dinner will have to be a little late today."
            Clark tried hard to hide his triumph, as his straining cock reminded him of the urgency of getting off...of the phone, that is.  "Well, I'll see you later, then, mom."
            "Okay.  And if you need a snack, there's some leftovers in the fridge."
            "Sure.  Have fun.  Bye."  Clark knew that hanging up, as he wanted to do, would be terribly suspicious, so he waited impatiently for his mother to finish up.
            "All right.  Bye," she hung up in just the nick of time, as Clark simultaneously unzipped his fly.
            He tossed the phone back to its former position on the dark wood, and released the tense button.  If he hadn't watched his strength carefully, he would have been stuck sneaking to the garbage with his shredded pants, which would be exceedingly difficult to explain to a pair of frugal parents.
            "Sorry, ma and pa," he thought to himself, "Mr. Big couldn't wait."  He laughed, as he went to pull his boxers down.  They had monkeys on them of all kinds.  One danced cheerfully around on the slit opening to the very eager friend waiting beneath.
            As he began to shove down the elastic waistband, a flushed Lex burst into the room.
            "Clark," he breathed, "I've got..." he trailed off as his eyes found the pathway down to his tent-like undergarments.  "Oh.  I didn't realize..."
            Clark suddenly found life breathe back into his limp limbs and hastily tried pulling the covers over him, but they caught on his foot and left him tangled up in their soft fabric, bare and blatantly exposed to Lex's roaming slate eyes.
            "Shit," he muttered, all the while untangling himself.
            "Do you need any help?" Lex offered casually.
            Clark, still tangled, angrily replied, "Don't you rich boys know to knock before entering a room?  And, no, I don't need any help.  I am perfectly capable of pulling my own covers up!"  His face, he felt, was an angry crimson, blood washing his cheeks in harsh waves.
            Lex countered, just as nonchalantly, with, "I didn't mean the covers."  His voice slid over Clark, consuming him and slithering about his body.
            Clark, nave as he was about such matters, asked, "Then what do you mean by..." his voice fell to trap and ended abruptly.  His breath caught in his chest and his heart threatened to illegally deport.  He couldn't seem to find his voice, as he and Lex stared uncomfortably at one another.  Lex did not appear to be breathing, either, and hadn't moved a millimeter from his position.  It was made clear that even he, with all of his charm and sexual prowess, was just as unnerved by his offer as Clark was.
            "I...uh..." Clark stumbled over his tongue, searching for words with stoic desperation.
            Lex quickly made amends.  "Look, I'm sorry I walked in at such an inopportune time, Clark.  You can call me later, if you feel like it.  Not that I would expect you to after such an out-of-place proposition on my part.  Enjoy yourself," he muttered as he turned to walk away from Clark, maybe forever, if Clark didn't find his voice.
            Silence is almost never a good thing in a relationship.  Even Clark was savvy enough to realize that letting Lex go after such an encounter could have dire effects.
            "Lex, wait," he called breathlessly.  Lex did not turn back to look him in the eyes.  Unbeknownst to Clark, Lex didn't have the strength to face him.  "It wasn't...an out-of-place offer.  It's just...I've never...I didn't know..."
            "What?  That I might hold some sort of fondness for you in my poor-little-rich-boy cold heart?  Clark, has it ever occurred to you how utterly fascinating you are?"  He had turned back to Clark by that time, and began to inch slowly towards the bed. 
            Clark doubtfully admonished Lex.  "But you have your choice of whomever you please.  You could screw the President's daughter if you wanted to.  I'm not that naive, Lex.  What would you want with me?"
            Lex sighed, and this next-to-frustrated release of breath forced Clark's heart, among other things, to hiccup suddenly.  "Clark," he whispered in his silky way of things, "Do you know how beautiful you are?  And do you know how hard I've had to restrain myself from ravaging you each and every time we're alone in a room?  It's been hard, Clark, keeping this inside.  I know this sounds terribly cliche, but it's the honest-to-God-truth, Clark.  And that should mean something, considering how lacking I am in that department."
            "Lex," Clark put a finger to his lips, "let's talk later."  He pulled Lex down onto the mattress, which gave easily beneath their weight.
            Was this happening?  Did Clark just seduce someone, Lex to boot?  Would he wake up in just a few minutes, with his nightclothes soiled and sticky?  He couldn't imagine a more uninviting fate.
            But the warmth that was rebounding between their bodies, the feel of Lex's knit sweater on his bare stomach, just brushing up against his navel, seemed so real.  
            Lex bent down to press his fervent mouth against Clark's and Clark took to relishing the taste of his lips, a little salty and the hint of chapstick.  Clark found his mouth parting by its own free will.  Lex quickly accepted the invitation, and pressed his beckoning tongue into Clark's panting mouth.
            The kisses gained fervor, metamorphosing into a passionate battle of lips and teeth and tongues, the heat building up into a powerful tempest of lust and greed, as each tried to best one another.  Clark whimpered as Lex ran his fingertips down Clark's chest and stomach and further, teasing his dick, which threatened to escape its confines if things didn't progress in a very timely manner, in other words, pretty damn fast.
    Lex's eyelashes suddenly swept across his collarbone, as he bent and toyed with Clark's quickly hardening nipple, flicking his tongue in ways Clark hadn't thought possible.
            Clark was running ways to return the favor through his head when he found himself gasping.  Lex had migrated south, and was running his warm tongue down the length of the trail from Clark's navel down beneath the waistband of his boxers and moving fast in the general downward direction.
            "Lex," he moaned beneath his breath, his eyes rolling backwards and his stomach shuddering with each meeting of his skin to Lex's tongue.
            Clark imagined what would commence soon after, and found himself almost impossibly harder by the mere thought of Lex taking this anywhere more.
            But Lex did.  Clark suddenly felt free; the breeze coming in his window chilled him, but was repaired by Lex's sudden intake of Clark's pulsating shaft.  Clark gasped once more, his breath not wanting to work according to Clark's commands, and Clark lost himself in the heat of this moment, this tiny moment in time wherein Lex ran his tongue over spots Clark had never found on his own.  
            Lex pulled away suddenly, and the cool air rushing over Clark's cock was not at all welcome, and Clark frowned with the threat of protest.  His leaping member made it very clear that it was unhappy.
            Lex rested above it, and blew softly on the tip, making Clark shudder once more. 
            "Please, Lex," he begged without thinking.  He had never felt such an urgent need, and Lex's teasing just wasn't nice.  
            "Silly Clark, this is the fun part.  Tell me you need it," he urged, his eyes wicked and more lustful than Clark had seen them, even earlier as Lex watched Clark's boxers tent up.
            Clark didn't want to recommence his begging, as he was not used to having to beg for anything, but his angry member decided otherwise.  "Please, Lex.  I need it," he whispered.
            "What was that, Clark?" Lex teased, running the tip of his thumb over the tip of Clark's head, catching a drip of pre-come and sucking it off with his slick lips that Clark so hungered for.
            "I need it, Lex.  Please!" he cried, becoming increasingly frustrated with the game.
            "Very well, Clark," Lex succumbed and took Clark back in deep.  Clark felt Lex's throat muscles relax as Lex became accustomed to the hefty organ that felt so engorged, Clark though he would faint from the pressure.
            Clark bucked his hips up against Lex's mouth, fleetingly hoping that he wouldn't accidentally injure Lex with his more-than-human strength.  Considering this was a first time thing with someone other than his right hand, Clark had no idea what kind of consequences could arise.
            But he was too far gone to care very much.
            His spasms rose to the surface as his hip motions boiled over in ferocity.  Clark came with a shock of light blacking his vision, a twitching of all of his muscles, and a forceful groan.
            "Lex," he whimpered like a pup, his shuddering climaxing and coming to a close.  His hips' movements subsided, a tidal wave come crashing down on the shore and retreating without protest.
            Lex wiped away the traces of Clark's essence on his mouth, licking his fingertips where there remained leftovers.
            Leftovers...shit, his mother would show up anytime, only to find him in bed with one of the richest men alive, his limp cock hanging out and Lex running his tongue over his lips with a contented smirk.  She would throw a fit, though it was uncommon, and Clark didn't want to be around when that meteor hurtled into the Kent household.
            "Shit, shit," he mumbled, trying to grab at his boxers.  "My parents are going to be home."  He began to fumble around, pulling at clothes, trying to clean himself up quickly enough.  "Shit, I need to go grab the Glade.  The smell of sex is all over this room!"
            Lex grabbed his forearm and gently pulled him back down to the bed.  "Clark," he mumbled through closed teeth, as he used them to pull down Clark's replaced boxers, "Relax.  Your parents aren't going to be home anytime soon, and I'm not finished with you yet."
            Clark looked at him with wide sapphire eyes.  "Where are my parents?"
            Lex laughed, "Clark, I was serious when I told you to relax.  Don't be so paranoid.  I met up with your mother at the market.  I told her to take Jonathan and go see a film in town, on me.  She was a little reluctant, but I told her she didn't have to tell your father where the money came from.  And that I would buy us dinner.  She thinks we're studying."  His suave tone did help Clark to loosen up a little, but he had his doubts.
            "So now I'm lying to my parents?"
            Lex smiled, "What, were you planning to casually mention over your cauliflower, 'Mom, dad, Lex and I made steamy love while you were out.  How bout that weather?'  Please, let's just forget about them.  I still want to have my way with you."
            Clark laid himself back down onto the bed, his worries fading like the sunset going on outside of his window.  "Lex, you know this isn't something I've done before, right?"
            Lex pressed his lips on Clark's forehead.  "The surprise of the century, farm-boy.  Here, it only hurts a little.  Put your knees over my shoulders."  And at some point, Lex's entire outfit had disappeared, probably lying in a pile in the corner, but when it occurred, Clark knew nothing of it.  "You don't have any lotion around, do you?"
            Clark blushed.  "It's...uh...in the top drawer."  He did as Lex told him and watched as, in that position, Lex leaned over and extracted said bottle.  He squeezed a quarter-sized dab of it onto his fingertips.
            "Just relax your muscles and let me do the work and we can go to town with this, Clark," he consoled as he rubbed the warm liquid over his own shaft and onto Clark's tense opening, then running some onto Clark's again-stiffening dick and massaging it in slow rhythmic motions.  "Here goes, farm-boy.  Time to grow up, my little flower bud.  I'll have you deflowered in no time."  
            He smiled again at Clark and planted his burning lips against Clark's own once more as he penetrated Clark's not-so-willing bud.  He moved slowly, and Clark found that it hurt very little, perhaps as an effect of his other super-human abilities.  He sheathed himself suddenly within Clark and the intense heat that filled his body nearly made him come onto his chest once more.
            Lex sat for a moment more, and then, quite taken with his own lust, began to increase the speed of his thrusts into Clark until they were moving in sync with one another, in harmony with ancient desires, and Clark moaned loudly, as Lex kept his composure and tended to Clark's hurting cock with his generous palm.
            Clark felt Lex hit him in the spot often spoken of, but something Clark had never felt and he felt the waves of orgasm come crashing down on him once more.  With a final cry, he came, spraying into Lex's hand and onto his chest and stomach.  His spasms and contractions sent Lex over the edge, as he was close anyhow, and he rammed his hips against Clark for a few final thrusts, collapsing like a dummy onto Clark's soiled chest, where they lay for perhaps ten minutes, maybe a half an hour, tenderly running fingers over one another and kissing once in a while, savoring now these newfound feelings, now that the lust had passed.
            Maybe Clark was in love with him.  Maybe they would just have sex on occasion.  Maybe this would be the one and only time.  Clark didn't know.
            Lex mentioned, after getting dressed and on his way out the door, "Let me know the next time your parents will be off at the market, Clark."
            Clark grinned and threw his boxers at Lex.  "Hold onto these until next time."
    

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End file.
